


Last Call

by EvRain



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvRain/pseuds/EvRain
Summary: Set during the decline and before the overall downfall of Overwatch in Moira's lab, shortly after Moira's reveal of her involvement in Blackwatch, to the more official parts of Overwatch. Moira shares a few words with Gabriel, before setting off on what could be considered her final assignment.





	Last Call

Late into the night in a dimly lit lab, Moira packed away her things on one of the tables, she wasn’t one to have a great deal of personal paraphernalia and pieces where she worked. However, her years spent in Overwatch, or rather Blackwatch, the distinction now more evident than ever, and the relationships that had formed, had somehow accumulated into a surprising amount.

A few snow globes featuring places around the world that dealt with heavy winter weather, others that weren’t, but would be very soon if predictions panned out. 

A collection of cups, mugs, and shot glasses, the meanings behind them ranging from jokes about geneticists, of drinking heavily, and for a few a reminder that she should hydrate more often. 

A ridiculous cowboy hat, that she still couldn’t figure out if it was meant as a joke, or to be taken seriously, given the gifter.

Holding it by the brim, she donned the hat and continued to sort and shuffle through the rest, tossing some into a trash can, others in boxes to be shipped out or sent to storage. The hiss and clink of the sliding door opening met her ears, followed by a familiar clank of metallic footsteps, Moira didn’t bother to even turn to confirm who it was.

“Gabe.”

“Moira. Nice hat.” Coming to stand beside her on her right, his tone jovial, Gabe took the hat off with one hand, putting it on and leaning on the table. “How do I look?”

“Atrocious. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Keeping her voice level and shaking her head to hide a grin, Moira continued with her task at hand, not batting an eye when Gabe brought out a discus of a device.

“Just hoping for one last check up from my favorite doctor.” Setting it down on the table, a red indicator light flickered, flashing to a green, quickly covered by Gabe setting down the hat over it.

“Don’t let Dr. Ziegler hear you say that.” Pushing a few boxes aside, Moira turned to rest against the edge of the table, facing the lab door, right hand picking up a remote, punching in a code she’d done a dozen times, waiting until the small display on it read ‘Lab Secure’.

“Ha! Not Angela? Guessing she didn’t take the news very well.”

“You could say that, it was the first time I’ve ever seen he so furious, enough for Winston to have to hold her back. Can you imagine? The world’s leading nano surgeon, having to be restrained by a gorilla.” Letting out a chuckle, one that Gabe joined in, Moira rubbed the side of her face idly that Angela had struck once, hard enough that it still faintly stung. Moira could’ve easily healed the damage dealt, but she left it as a reminder, considering what’d she done, she had gotten off lightly.

Glancing at her console, where an icon was flashing, indicating she had messages from the internal network. Moira had little doubt they were messages from her soon to be former colleagues both near and far, concerning her ousting. “We’re in the green, so why don’t you get straight to the point?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Gabe’s voice shifted, dropping an octave and having an edge underneath the joviality.

“Who else could you send. McCree is too much of a cowboy. Genji is the wrong kind of blade for this, a warped one at that.” Raising her hand, Moira lowered and counted off on her fingers while she spoke. “You’re still needed here. That just leaves me, and who else is better suited for such a surgical operation?”

“Everyone that comes to mind is either missing. Or gone.” Crossing his arms and falling silent, Gabe’s face showed a conflict between sorrow and rage, fists clenching, and body tensing.

Moira rested a hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of it and patting his shoulder. “This’ll be the best way to find out about them, maybe I’ll even manage to recover a few.”

Removing her hand, she held her right arm, tracing the scars and veins from her experiments on it, putting on a wry grin. “Alongside whatever medical research they’ve collected over the years, they might hold solutions for both of us.”

“Always the scientist.” Gabe shook his head, moving his hands down to grip the edge of the table, letting out a drawn sigh. “So, what’s your cover story if they ask about our clandestine meetings? I’m sure they’re spies have noticed at least that much.”

“I plan on telling them we were friends with benefits, I’m actually looking forward to describing our fictional trysts in detail.” Moira spoke with a straight face, the two were silent for a a few moments, Gabe’s own carefully blank.

Glancing and sharing a look, both burst into laughter, the echoed and rang throughout the gutted lab.

“With all the examinations you’ve done, I’m sure whatever you tell will be hard to see through.” Gabe recovered first, wiping at the corner of an eye, nudging Moira’s ribs with an elbow. “I’ll miss having you around.”

“Who knows, if things don’t work out with Overwatch, I’m sure Talon would be all too eager to have you.”

“Me? In Talon, the grim reaper of terrorists, thanks to you. That’ll be the day, I’m still shocked they even recruited you.” Letting out a short guffaw, Gabe slapped Moira’s back, hard enough to make her stand up and stumble where she rested. 

Getting a pointed jab in return from her left hand, he winced despite the padding and clothing he wore, wincing and rubbing where she had stabbed. “Damn, how does anyone you’re with survive those?”

“They don’t. Most I’m with tend to die a little.” Snickering and reaching over to one of the boxes pushed aside, Moira extracted two shot glasses, pinched between her fingers, and bottle of rich amber liquid. “What do you say to one last drink? I don’t plan on bringing this with me, and it is a shame to let this gather dust.”

Offering it to Gabe, he took the bottle and examined the contents, opening it and giving a sniff, letting out a low whistle. “Have you been holding out? Where’d you even get this?”

“It was a gift, from Ana. We promised to share it the day either of us left Overwatch, in her absence, I don’t think she’d object to me sharing it with you.” Blowing out both glasses of any dust that’d been stuck, Moira set both down her face tight, and just the hints of a frown creasing her expression.

Nodding, Gabe poured out a less than healthy amount in each, a gloom coming over his face, taking one in hand and raising it once he put the bottle down, Moira doing the same. “A toast, to Ana, wherever she is.”

“To Ana.”

Clinking glasses, the two drained their glasses, Moira topping each of theirs off, after stifling the cough that wanted to rise, and Gabe finished clearing his throat from it.

“Fuck, Ana really knew her stuff. Your turn.”

“I didn’t know we were doing that, in that case, how about to those we’ve lost?”

“We’d go through the entire bottle if we’re doing the rest.” Gabe still brought his glass up, the two once more going through the motions.

Going back and forth, toasting to friends (the few), family (next to none), ex’s (plenty), and other things, until they’d drained the contents to half, Moira capped the bottle, pushing it toward Gabe. “I think that’s enough for me, you take the rest.”

“No, no, no, it was a gift, you should take it with you.” Getting up Gabe waggled a finger at Moira, pointing and pushing the bottle back to her. “It’s good stuff.”

“Now I’m gifting it to you.”

“Re-gifting? For shame.”

“In that case.” Moira took out a pen and a pad of paper, writing in a scrawl across it, tearing it off and keeping the carbon copy underneath it, tucking it in a pocket of her lab coat. Tossing the pen aside, she snatched up the bottle, part presenting and shoving it and the paper to Gabe. “Here.”

Taking it with reluctance, clutching the drink to his chest, Gabe squinted trying to decipher what Moira had written. “Did you just prescribe me alcohol, for, ‘being an ass’?”

“A very nice one at that.” Twirling Gabe around and ushering him towards the door, Moira added the hat over his head, planting the device on top of it and under the hat still. “Now I should really get back to packing. Share that with someone under the same promise, my money is on Jack, or Angela.” 

Unlocking the lab, Moira gave one last shove, sending Gabe stumbling out, who pivoted to face Moira.

“How about I share it with you, once this is all done instead?”

“Fine.” Moira shut the door in Gabe’s face, catching a glimpse of his usual shrug just before it closed. Leaning against the close door, Moira slowly slid down to sit on the ground, getting one last good look at what had been her lab for years.

Musing on the memories it held, she found her eyes starting to water.

She blamed the drink.


End file.
